TGIT

I have decided that if I were ever to vacate my desk quickly, this is what I would have left someone else to not only clean up, but also decipher.

This is what I am currently dealing with on my desk.


For those of you who do not have beyond perfect vision, I will highlight some of my favorite "reminders"

• to start, one of them simply says "Friday." Your guess is as good as mine as to what that could possibly be reminding me of. Perhaps I was supposed to do something super important on Friday that I couldn't forget, or maybe I was merely wishing it was Friday. Either way, this sticky proves useless.
• Another good one is the one that reads: "Travel Idea! Do not forget..." Well, thank the lord I wrote that down, never mind leaving myself a hint as to what this amazing travel idea might be. Again, this is another super helpful and descriptive sticky note.
• there is also a sticky note with a library call number that will spit you in the middle of the Celiac Disease section of my library if someone were to actually look it up...as well as a sticky note reminding myself of a rock version of the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" song from the Nutcracker.

....maybe I should think about utilizing the voice memo or reminder option in my iPhone.

Ode to CVS

Because of my ungodly amount of prescription meds [thanks for that, bod] I find myself frequenting CVS far more than any normal person should. It is with that caveat that I explain, CVS is my drug.

For one, the second I walk into CVS, my body releases an unusual amount of Seratonin/Dopamine/every other happy-enducing hormone that my body produces. It’s like I subconsciously know that my every want and need is going to be fulfilled before I leave the very doors I just entered. CVS is like my fix.

Its layout is nearly perfect for the way my brain functions. To start, the shopping baskets are placed in the most obnoxious place - I can’t walk in without tripping over them. To some might be annoying, but to others [like me who attempt to balance all their goods in one arm while trying to grab something on the bottom shelf] it is a blessing. CVS reminds me of my shortcomings.

Immediately, I am spit into the aisle where I actually need something, which is conveniently connected to the aisle containing the things I don’t need, per se, but probably should have, which is conveniently connected to the make-up aisle, which then syncs me up with the nail polish section, which leads me to what I call the “Aleve and Celiac” aisle, which syncs to the “as seen on tv” aisle, followed by the yummy drink and vitamin aisle, which connects me back to the pharmacy where I can get one of my 1345 prescriptions and skip the line at the front of the store, created by the woman trying to pay with all coupons and pennies. Phew.

Before I tip my hat to their corporate store-planners, [bravo, corporate, bravo], I would also like to toot my own horn, as I believe that I not only have perfected the CVS shopping experience, but have also single-handedly employ most of the pharmacists on hand at any given time. This is another reason I simply adore CVS- I can get snacks and anti-anxiety meds in the same place. CVS is created for [just slightly neurotic] twenty-somethings just like me.

Lastly, being on the pharmacy VIP list also has its perks [no pun intended.] For one, I am on a conversational basis with all pharmacists: one of them knows my name and asks how many I am picking up, another one tells me that I haven’t changed since second grade. Secondly, I now have the CVS phone number memorized for when I get automatic refill reminders. I now avoid the call, acting like it’s a bad boyfriend, but always end up at the CVS for my weekly pick-me-up. CVS knows that I forget everything if it isn’t causing me immediate anxiety.